


When Your Past Calls

by amaradangeli



Series: In Washington [5]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Detectives, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 20:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10368819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaradangeli/pseuds/amaradangeli
Summary: As her eyes tracked to the left they tripped over a very familiar and unwelcome face.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Art by Samantha-Carter-is-my-muse.

Sam walked into the building ahead of Jack, pulling off her sunglasses as she transitioned from the bright sidewalk to the lobby. She looked to her left to scan the directory to find the company – and the CEO – they were there to question. As her eyes tracked left they tripped over a very familiar and unwelcome face that, thankfully, hadn't noticed her yet. 

She stopped walking immediately and Jack plowed into her back. He reached up and grabbed her upper arms to steady her asking, "Carter?" 

Her eyes were locked on Jonas. He hadn't noticed her. Yet. Her eyes flitted from the man to the directory and found the offices they wanted were on the fourth floor. But the elevators were just passed Jonas. How was she going to get by him without him seeing her?  

Jack squeezed her arms and she realized she hadn't yet answered him. "It's... Jonas," she said, struggling, even, to say the name. 

It took him a moment, several breaths, to realize who _Jonas_ was and why that was a problem. Jack rubbed his hands down her arms in a reassuring manner and then turned her towards him. "What's he gonna do?" he asked. 

She considered all the people. Jack. Herself. "Nothing," she said with less confidence than she really wanted. 

"Then we just walk by him." 

And oh, how she does wish she was right. But Jonas was nothing if not confrontational. 

"Samantha," he drawled as she walked into his line of sight. His quick, shrewd eyes raked over Jack and she could see him determining who the man was and she wished for just a moment that Jack wasn't wearing his badge on his belt or a gun on his hip because she desperately wanted their relationship to be ambiguous. 

Next to her, Jack visibly tensed and his hands looked like they wanted to curl into fists until he subtly shook them out. She marveled for just a moment at his reaction to the way Jonas said her name. She liked it, even if she could, mostly, take care of herself. 

"Jonas," she said cooly. 

He smiled at her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes and left her feeling chilled. That look, coupled with the way he said her name, made her feel like she'd underestimated what might happen, despite the public place, despite the fact that she carried a gun, despite the fact that Jack was standing right next to her, vibrating with tension. 

She took another step past him but his frosty voice stopped her in her tracks. 

"You look... good," but he said it in a way that made her feel violated.  

She took another step. 

"But then again, you always looked pretty good. Except when--" 

She desperately didn't want him to finsh that sentence so she turned and cut him off with, "Enough." She practically growled the word. 

Jonas looked conspiratorially at Jack. "See that look in her eye? That's how you know you've gotten to her." 

She watched as Jack leaned in, opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. "You're not worth it." 

"You used to writhe underneath me, and now I’m not even worth a proper conversation?" He looked proud of himself as he said it. 

She felt herself blush. But she pulled herself up to her full height and looked him square in the eye. "I've _been_ done with you." 

"She's a hellcat in bed, a pain in the ass everywhere else. But, you probably know that already... don't you?" 

Jack's eyes narrowed, Sam touched his shoulder to pull his attention and it barely worked. But he did look at her. "Come on," she said quietly. "He's not worth it." 

He looked Jonas up and down one time, made it clear though his eyes that the only thing that was stopping a more physical confrontation was her, and put his hand on the small of her back and moved her away from Jonas. 

As they walked away, she could hear Jonas chuckling. Rather than wait for the elevator they exchanged a glance and headed for the stairs. Waiting for the car, listening to that laughter, would have been more than her ego could take. She was already highly embarrassed by his innuendo and wanted to be as far away from him as possible. 

Jack held the door open for her and she preceeded him into the stairwell. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

Later he was driving her back to her car and he was uncharacteristically quiet. Then again, so was she. And the silence wasn't comfortable. She knew he wouldn't bring up Jonas or the encounter, but she felt like she had to. 

"I'm sorry about today." 

"Wasn't your fault," he said gruffly. 

"Maybe not my _fault_ , but it did happen because of me." 

"It happened because he's a jackass." 

She chuffed out a laugh. "Yeah, he is that."  

"Why did you let him say those things?" 

She sighed. "Short of shooting him, what was I supposed to do?" 

"Stand up for yourself!" he said hotly. 

"Do you honestly believe anything I said would have stopped him from trying to humiliate me?" 

Jack looked stunned for a moment and then he clenched his jaw and applied pressure to the accelerator. 

She continued, "No, sometimes the best thing you can do is just walk away." 

"So that's what happened when you left? You just walked away?" 

She looked at him sharply. Did he really not know? He didn't have any reason to try to deceive her about what he was aware of and what he wasn't. She wasn't sure she wanted to get into this, but at the same time, she wanted so badly to share herself with him and this was the opportunity that had presented itself.  

"I didn't just walk away. He forced my hand." 

Jack visibly appeared to be restraining himself from asking the obvious follow-up question. It was clear he both wanted to know and didn't want to pry. 

She answered the question he didn't ask. "He backed me up against a wall. Used some of his hand-to-hand skills to restrain me." 

At a red light he looked over at her, she was studying him as she talked so their eyes met. "And then what?" 

"And then he tried to hurt me." 

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. 

"I asked him to let go of me." She could hear a tremor in her voice that belied how she still hadn't quite gotten over the incident. "He didn't. We struggled – I think I was stronger than he thought I'd be. And I knew more self defense than he anticipated." Her voice sounded very far away, but she kept talking as if by rote. "But still, he left me on the floor, gasping for breath. I didn't realize my shirt was torn until the police arrived and the officer handed me his jacket and asked me to put it on. I packed that night and left. 

"Jonas called me the next day, but I didn't answer. It's how I knew they hadn't found him yet. So I called his CO and told him what had happened. It wasn't the first time he'd done something wrong, and I knew they didn't take domestic violence lightly. Later that day the police had him in hand. 

"I pressed charges, but the Air Force, the same people who busted him down a rank, from what I heard, pulled some strings because he was necessary for... something. Something else I don't know about or even understand. I heard from some of our old friends that he was out of the country for a while. And I felt safer." She stopped talking then, thinking of what might happen to her now that they'd seen each other. Was she going to have to be concerned that he'd try to hurt her again? Or would he settle for embarrassing her? 

Jack pulled  a u-turn then, so sudden that she fell against her door. "And you don't feel safe now?" 

"I don't know what I feel. Where are we going?" 

"My place." 

"Why?" 

"Because you're safe, and you're staying that way, and I'm not leaving you alone on the same night he's been provoked." 

"Jack," she sighed his name but she didn't know how to continue. It was nice, this thing he was doing, but unnecessary. She _was_ armed. And Jonas didn't, as far as she knew, know where she lived. 

"Don't argue with me, Carter." 

She didn't really intend to. She'd learned in the handful of months they'd been partners, that there was a certain tone of Jack O'Neill's voice that you didn't argue with. Besides, she had to admit she was somewhat curious to see where he lived. In the city, close to the precinct, she was picturing a brick apartment building. She didn't know why, but she thought maybe it would be a little run down – not because he couldn't do better but because he didn't care. 

They didn't say anything else but soon enough they pulled up in front of townhouses they'd passed a few blocks back. He parked on the street and turned the car off. She was surprised to say the least but she tried not to let it show. 

He led her inside and she instantly knew that this was the home he'd shared with his ex-wife. It was too perfectly put together but there was also the very real feeling that there were things missing. Like a wall that was too blank or a corner that was too empty. As if certain items had been removed. 

She set her purse down on an end table by the couch and turned slowly to face him. He looked a little nervous, like he wasn't sure how she was going to react. But it wasn't the first time she'd been in a man's home, not even the first time she'd been in a divorced man's home and she trusted him explicitly. She had nothing to be worried about. If anything, he'd removed the one worry she'd had for the night. Jonas wouldn't find her here. And if he did, she wouldn't have to deal with him alone.  

The only concern she had was that it was barely eight o'clock. It was too early to go to bed. And she had a feeling, from the look on his face, that Jack wasn't done with the Jonas story. Not yet. He crossed to a cabinet that was obviously a bar and opened it. He fixed two drinks without asking her if she wanted one and then went and set the drinks down on the coffee table. He sat then gestured for her to do the same. She picked up the glass then curled up against the back of the couch facing him. She took a sip and relished the burn as the liquor flowed down her throat. She took another sip for courage and then she continued her story. 

"He wasn't always a clear problem. I knew he had a darkness about him, but I took it as a challenge. Like maybe if he was just loved..." She chuckled humorously. "But that never works outside the movies." 

"He never tried to hurt you, though..." Jack led. 

"No," she said, shaking her head, "he'd get angry, he'd shout, he throw things and punch walls. It wasn't an attractive side to him, but I didn't feel unsafe." 

She took a sip of her drink before she continued. "Actually, I think maybe he was running around on me. And maybe that's why he never lifted a hand to me. He didn't need to. But that last night..." 

"What was the fight about?" 

She rolled her eyes. "Toilet paper." 

"Uh--" 

"It's really okay to not know what to say to that. I didn't know what to think when the fight started either. I bought the wrong brand. It started out as a normal fight but it escalated when I didn't back down. And I said some things that made him even madder even though I knew he'd react. And, well, you know the rest." 

"You did good, Sam, getting out when you did." He held her eyes while he said it. 

She didn't want to acknowledge how good his praise felt. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

The next morning he was up before she was. She could hear him in the bathroom, making a tapping noise. She could see a large swath of light spilling into the hall so she knew the door was open. She got up to investigate the source of the sound. 

She stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of him. He was bare-chested – his shirt hanging open, his face half covered in shaving cream, and with a razor in his hand. She felt the same bolt of attraction she usually felt around him, but it was more acute. 

He was tapping the razor against the edge of the sink after each careful stroke. He hadn't noticed her, and she wouldn't be visible in the mirror from this angle. So she indulged in watching him for a few strokes before she felt bad for the voyeurism and walked up to the bathroom door. 

"Hey," he said when he caught her out of the corner of his eye. "You're up." 

"Yep." 

"Sleep okay?" 

She had. She'd slept really well. She'd felt safe. "Yeah." 

Her eyes drifted down to his chest and he seemed to realize, quite suddenly, that he was standing in front of her half dressed. He turned back toward the mirror, set down the razor, and did up his shirt buttons casually but with a look in his eyes that belied the emotion. She wondered what he thought she thought when she looked at him. Because yeah, he was a little older, but damn, he was good looking. 

"Let me finish up here and then we can swing by your place so you can change." 

It made sense, her car was at the precinct. "Sure." 

He gave her a crooked smile and she wandered out to the living room to wait. Five minutes later, minutes she used to peruse his CD collection, he appeared, looking far too good in a cerulean blue shirt that set off the silver in his hair. She sighed and pulled a curious expression from him. She ignored it – they didn't need to get into it, goodness knew they'd had plenty of moments between them that made it clear that there was an attraction. 

She found herself comparing, for just a moment, Jack and Jonas. Both had darkness in them, but where Jonas' was chaotic, Jack's just made her want to know him better. She didn't feel like she needed to fix him, not like she had Jonas. She was pleased to be his partner, to be his friend, and she enjoyed the little moments they had that said that maybe there was something a little more between them. She enjoyed the way he obviously felt a responsibility towards her. It made her feel... special. And it had been a long time since she'd felt special. 

The curious expression slid into neutral as she watched him. She thought they both knew that she hadn't really needed to stay with him the previous night, but it was clear that it made them both feel better. So maybe it was a small thing that could be easily overlooked. 

But then, as they passed through his front door, he placed his hand on the small of her back to usher her towards the car and she felt a frisson of heat skitter down her spine. It was a feeling that Jonas had never given her while trying and something that Jack could do just by barely touching her. Yet another dichotomy between the two men, between her past and her present.  

She climbed into the car and waited for him to get in the driver's side. "Thanks for last night." 

"Think nothing of it," he said, waving her off. 

She'd try, but she didn't think she'd be successful. Because talking to him about Jonas had made her compare too strongly the man she'd previously loved with the only man currently in her life – a man she just happened to be attracted to. But more than that, she liked and respected Jack. Which was so much more than she could say for Jonas. 

She sat back as he navigated the streets of Washington to her little apartment. He came up while she showered and changed and otherwise got ready for their day. And the whole time, in the back of her head, she kept comparing him to Jonas and finding him more and more built up in her head as ideal. It was dangerous to put him on that kind of pedestal, she knew, because from there, there was only falling. 

Surely, surely Jack had to have some faults. Some deep, dark skeletons in his closet that made him a bad idea. Because right now, just knowing he was her partner wasn't deterrent enough. 

She grabbed her badge off her dresser and slid it onto her belt. It was a physical reminder of what she wasn't supposed to be doing. Namely, her partner. She needed to suss out Jack's secrets, and soon. If she didn't, she just might do something she shouldn't.


End file.
